


Alive in the City of Light

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-19
Updated: 2005-07-19
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Krycek meets someone interesting in Paris.Crossover: Highlander/X-Files.co-written with Jami





	Alive in the City of Light

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Alex shoved his hand into his right pocket. Here he was, at the tail end of summer, in Paris: wandering around like a tourist and feeling like a fool. He stared up at the Eiffel Tower and shook his head: vastly overrated. The Seine wasn't all it was cracked up to be, either. Nor the Rhine. In fact, so far on this little tour around Europe, the only thing that had lived up to its reputation had been David.

 

It was true. Michelangelo was a fucking genius. The sheer size and scale of David had shocked Alex, not to mention the fact that it was situated out in the open. For some reason, he'd always imagined a more life-size scaled sculpture, displayed inside of a museum.

 

But hanging around in Paris waiting for his 'contact' to contact him was getting old—fast. He was beginning to suspect someone was playing games with him. A wild goose chase...and he was the goose.

 

He wandered away from the Tower, wondering what the hell had possessed him to accept this particular location for the rendezvous.

 

Alex sighed and rubbed at his left shoulder, trying to ease the ache that flared up from the prosthetic.

 

Hours later, he began to muse upon what Paris DID have to offer. Red wine and croissants, he thought. Dinner sounded good. A late meal. Might as well go for the full French experience. One thing about France he was learning to love to the point of indulgence was the food. The cheeses, the bread, the wines...

 

The hair on the back of his neck lifted and he carefully checked the shadows. Someone was watching him. His eyes narrowed and he quickly walked away, down the street, ducking into the nearest alley to wait for his unknown watcher to walk by.

 

**

 

He knows I'm here—following him.

 

That only makes the chase more interesting.

 

I've been watching him for about three hours now—first spotted him at the Eiffel Tower. Something about the man immediately caught my attention: a certain aura of danger. This one is definitely not the typical tourist.

 

And, he's beautiful. Gods above, the man is gorgeous. And I—well, I have to admit that a little danger only adds to the excitement of the chase. I want him. Badly.

 

I'll just sit down and cry if the bastard is straight.

 

He's in the alley up ahead. Gonna ambush me. Oh yeah! This old man is ready to be ambushed...tackled...threatened.

 

My cock twitches at the thought.

 

Casually, I walk towards the alley.

 

**

 

Sure enough, a figure appeared and paused, silhouetted against the faint light behind him. He was tall, but his shape betrayed an ectomorphic build. With a slight growl, Alex reached out and grabbed the man, pulling him into the alley, spinning him around and shoving him hard against the brick wall.

 

With his arm up at the man's throat, pressing him into the side of the building, Alex demanded, "Who are you? Don't you know it's dangerous to follow people? You never know who you might be stalking."

 

The man's eyes were wide and dark in the dim light of the alley. He stared back into Alex's face with all the defensive vulnerability of a lost student... Indeed, the man looked as though he'd gotten separated from the collegiate group who'd passed drunkenly by, not ten minutes before.

 

Something warned him, however, that appearances were deceiving when he looked deeply into wide hazel eyes. No — NO ONE was this defenseless. He'd learned to trust his instincts in such cases.

 

**

 

Oooh. His eyes narrow as he glares at me. I was right—dangerous...wonderfully so.

 

I relax into his hold and whimper with feigned fear. "I wasn't following you, honest, mister. I'm on my way home—that's all."

 

"Bullshit."

 

Oh my. What a voice! It reverberates through me, sending a thrill deep into the pit of my stomach.

 

My cock twitches again.

 

"I... I um—Okay—I was following you. But only because I was," here I lower my voice, Adam Pierson, Innocent-at-large, at your service, sir, "attracted to you. You're a beautiful man. And I, well, I just wanted to watch you for a bit. Maybe see where you were staying—arrange to have you see me—quite by accident—in the lobby of your hotel."

 

"Huh," he grunts suspiciously

 

Waiting, I lick my lips nervously and stare back at him, pleading silently for leniency and hoping that he's as dangerous as I believe him to be, that he won't buy this act and he's probably more paranoid than is healthy—even for one such as this.

 

**

 

Alex let the man go, stepping back only enough to leave a few inches of room between them, by no means convinced that this guy was for real. There was something... indefinably strange about this entire encounter. Alex's instincts were screaming a wordless warning.

 

Still, the lure of a one-night stand and the added ego stroking of having someone following him—not out of any malignant intent but purely motivated by lust and curiosity—were...

 

He shook his head and glowered. He didn't have time for this. Did he?

 

There was a reason people came to this city for their honeymoons, why France had long ago garnered the reputation for Most Romantic Settings.

 

Oh well. He could always kill the man later, if this too-innocent and deceptively winsome creature revealed himself to be a threat.

 

Alex tilted his head and regarded the lean figure before him. "What's your name?"

 

"Adam. Adam Pierson."

 

Cultured, smooth, English accent... Alex couldn't help noticing the finely boned features, the elegance behind the almost geeky exterior of this ... this bookish man. Hell. Alex decided to play this hand and see what it brought him.

 

"Fine. My hotel's not far."

 

His obvious suspicion and wariness was still present however, and Adam Pierson's eyes widened a little more, looking slightly shaken at Alex's supposed acceptance. It was a little TOO sudden, a little too accepting. Alex couldn't help but smirk.

 

"Hey, it's your call, Adam. You want to play? Take your chance; it's up to you."

 

**

 

Swallowing heavily, I wet my suddenly dry lips.

 

'Take my chance?'

 

Damn, this guy is everything I'd hoped for... so far, anyway.

 

How long, I wonder, will it take him to realize that his menacing demeanor is EXACTLY what I want—what I need.

 

Might as well test the waters now. "Play?" I ask innocently. "You aren't into any—um, kind of S& M stuff, are you? I don't think I'm up for that." Dropping the innocent act, I continue, "Fucking is what I want. Hard and fast."

 

He snorts. "I can go either way, Adam. If fucking is what you want—I'm more that willing to give you that. Don't expect any lovey-dovey shit, though. THAT is definitely not my thing."

 

I raise my eyebrows, allowing him to see a small part of my nature in my eyes. "No lovey-dovey shit," I promise, raising one hand in a parody of the boyscout salute. "I swear it."

 

He grins and steps back. "Well then, follow me, kid."

 

Somehow, I manage to hide my amusement. 'Kid', indeed. If only he knew...

 

**

 

Alex led the way back to the hotel, noting that Adam seemed to keep an easy pace with him, taking no note of their surroundings. A local, Alex realized.

 

Not really in the mood for small talk, but finding himself eager to find out something about this odd young man he'd picked up, Alex asked, "So, how long have you been here?"

 

"Well, give or take a few days, let's see, March, April..." Adam looked at his watch, "off and on, about six years."

 

Alex grinned. "You live here? What do you do?"

 

"I own a bookstore, actually. I don't expect you'd be interested in the kinds of literature it offers, although you haven't told me what you do—or your name."

 

Alex sucked in a breath. This was going farther than he'd intended, even for small talk. There was just...something... in the way that Adam managed to say so much, so fast, in such a short space of time and in such a significant tone of voice. "Alex Krycek. I guess you could say that I travel a lot."

 

They had arrived at the hotel and Adam turned to look at him at him.

 

**

 

Looking at the inexpensive, but not cheap hotel, I smile. "Looks like you can find your way around a city. This place is well off of the beaten track—and quite anonymous."

 

Oh dear me. I've said too much, I realize, as I watch a wary expression appear in his eyes. Suspicious green eyes are directed at me.

 

"What the fuck are you trying to say, Adam?"

 

He looks to be on the verge of bolting.

 

I drop my facade for a moment. "Calm yourself, Alex. I've been in more places than you can count. I recognize you—hell, I've BEEN you far too often to say."

 

Laser green eyes burn with warning.

 

Shit.

 

"Look," I tell him, "I don't want anything but a good fucking. I know you can kill me easily—hell, that's what caught my attention." I grin. "You're a dangerous man, Alex. I see that—and I WANT you."

 

**

 

Well, that had the ring of sincerity, whatever 'Adam' might be after.

 

Alex was certain now that the innocuous, nondescript bookstore owner was decidedly not all he appeared to be. For someone who claimed to prefer the vanilla side of sex, Alex was getting all the signals of a man who wasn't easily scared. Hell, what was he supposed to think after that crack about being attracted to someone who could kill him?

 

With a smirk and a nonchalance he didn't feel, Alex said, "Clear enough. Okay, Adam. We're in Room 382." He opened the door to the lobby then waited for Adam to enter.

 

Damn it, why couldn't anything ever be simple? Why couldn't he pick up someone who truly was as they claimed to be? He felt he should be used to these twists of fate that his life always dumped in his lap, from aliens, Mulder and Russia to nightmares about that fucking silo...

 

He was going to have to get the truth out of Adam before he fucked him—and he wasn't sure he could be bothered to do so—not at this point. The illusion would be nice, as long as it didn't turn on him afterwards. Alex still had no reassurance that this guy hadn't been sent to contact him, perhaps kill him, in lieu of the contact that he STILL hadn't made.

 

In fact, maybe Adam WAS the contact. Frowning slightly, he led the way to the elevator.

 

**

 

Maybe I've said too much. He's showing definite signs of wanting to know more about me—question is, how much do I reveal? My true identity is out of the question. The immortality thing, though...

 

Hmmm

 

Maybe.

 

Certainly I've told him that I see him quite clearly. And, oddly enough, I think I can trust him with the information.

 

We walk up to the room, while I mentally debate the wisdom of telling him the truth about me—well, part of the truth.

 

What the fuck? Why not?

 

Once we've entered the room, I turn to look at him. Meeting his eyes, I draw a deep breath. "Alex," I say, "You should know that I'm well over a century old."

 

Damned if he doesn't take this without even a blink.

 

"You're an Immortal." he says.

 

You honestly could knock me over with a feather at this point.

 

With a smirk and a shrug, he takes in my dumbfounded expression. "You'd be surprised at how much I know."

 

I watch as he prowls, yes, PROWLS like some kind of nocturnal jungle cat, over to the window and closes the curtains.

 

This might prove to be even more fun than I could possibly have imagined.

 

**

 

Alex checked the window out of habit, and upon turning, saw Adam Pierson lounging in the chair in a completely boneless fashion, as if it were the most comfortable seat in the world.

 

He took a breath. "Weapons check, I think. Your kind carries a sword wherever you go, yeah?"

 

Adam shrugged and grinned at him. "Not on me right now, I'm afraid. Tell you what; for every piece of hardware YOU'RE packing and lay out on the table there, I'll place one of mine down as well."

 

The slight challenge amused Alex. He suppressed a grin. "Sure, Adam. Whatever makes you feel more at ease."

 

Adam snorted and pulled a gun out from behind him, from beneath his long overcoat.

 

Alex took out his Sig and placed it on the table, then looked up and met Adam's eyes.

 

Adam looked pleased, for some reason, and took out a dagger that was strapped to his belt. Interesting thing, too—looked like an Afghani hook blade. An antique, perhaps?

 

Alex's lips twitched and he pulled up the jeans on his right leg, to remove the knife he had strapped there.

 

Adam sat back down. "That's it, I'm afraid. I'm not carrying anything else on me." He threw Alex a look. "Sorry to disappoint you."

 

Alex lifted his chin in the direction of the hooked blade. "Afghanistan?"

 

"Bokhara, actually," Adam informed him.

 

Alex raised one brow and then removed two more guns, another knife and the garrote wire from his boot. He left a few weapons in place, however, not wanting to empty his entire arsenal in front of this man. He'd rather be standing stark naked than disclose every weapon he was carrying.

 

Adam's eyes widened somewhat and by the end of Alex's little display, he was nodding. "A mercenary, then?"

 

"Sometimes. Don't worry, I'm not here to hunt you," Alex added, suddenly wondering if maybe the tables had turned a little too quickly on the other man. For some reason, he really didn't want to intimidate the guy anymore. Unfortunately, he couldn't trust Adam anymore than Adam could trust HIM. He sighed.

 

Walking over to where Adam slouched in the chair, he said, "Stand up."

 

Adam smirked. "Going to frisk me?"

 

Alex shrugged. "Of course."

 

**

 

Well. Let the games begin.

 

I stand and hold my hands out to either side, allowing him free access. I have no intention of asking him to allow me the same freedom—and, I know full well that he's still carrying enough armament to start a small war.

 

Did I say small—shit, I have no doubt that he could easily stage a coup — on his own — and win quite handily. I can't control a snicker at the thought.

 

He turns me to face the wall, pushes me up against it and growls. "You laughing at me?"

 

"Oh no," I respond innocently. "I'd NEVER make a mistake like that. I was laughing at my own silly thoughts—that's all."

 

"Mmmm." He sounds more that a little skeptical, but lets the subject drop and steps back.

 

Slowly, I turn to face him again.

 

"You seem to be clean," he says gruffly.

 

"Oh, I am. Very clean. Cleanliness," I recite piously, "is next to godliness."

 

A wry look is his only response.

 

I like this guy. Really, I do.

 

Still, I wonder... "So, Alex," I say oh-so casually. "You wouldn't happen to know a Joe Dawson, would you?"

 

After he stares at me for a minute, weighing my words, he answers in that noncommittal way I've come to recognize and enjoy. "And if I do?"

 

"Oh, just another one of those silly thoughts of mine, that's all. He's a good friend of mine."

 

I can't tell if he knows Joe, or if he's just being inscrutable on principle.

 

Delightful.

 

**

 

Alex suppressed a sigh. This guy, this Immortal Pierson fellow, was about as paranoid as Mulder, and just about as hard to get a straight answer out of. Slippery. No doubt his ethics were as apposite as his sexual tastes. What the fuck was THAT about, anyway? Vanilla-No-S&M-Please-I'm-British on one hand and slightly psychotic/masochist with a death wish on the other? Then again, he'd never actually met an Immortal. Who knew what they were into, having had far longer time in their lives to explore the darker side...

 

"I don't know anyone by the name of Joe Dawson." It was a small concession.

 

It seemed to make a world of difference to Adam though, whose face lit up. "He's a lovely man, a lovely man. You'd like him, I think. Not as much as you're going to like me, though."

 

Alex snorted. "You seem overdressed for the occasion."

 

Adam's eyes twinkled. "Tell you what, Alex, let's go one step further on that deal we had, earlier. For every item of clothing I remove, you take off something, too."

 

Hm. Now THAT was nice. He had to admit to himself that it appealed in a strange way to his sense of the sublime and the ridiculous.

 

**

 

His eyes reveal more than he suspects, I think.

 

Not that I'M going to tell him anything of the kind. No, I'll take every advantage I can get at this point. Moreover, I like his sense of humor, of the ridiculous. Alex is going to be a most interesting bed partner.

 

IF we make it to the bed, that is.

 

What the hell—I'm flexible... in more ways than one.

 

Deciding to take the first step, I remove my sweater. He seems to like that. Yep, his eyes heat as he views my torso. I shiver and feel my nipples peak under his scrutiny.

 

He hesitates for a moment, then sits at the edge of the bed, bending forward to pull his boots off.

 

Hmmm. Methinks he's a little shy—still a bit hesitant about revealing that missing arm. Well, I can deal with that.

 

"Alex," I say in a matter-of-fact tone, "I was once a doctor." I leave it at that—allowing him to figure it out. No dummy this one, understanding dawns in his eyes.

 

"I, uh... let me work up to that, okay?"

 

For the first time, I see his vulnerability. Poor guy — wonder how long it's been?

 

"No problem—when you're ready—IF you're ready."

 

He nods, looks down at the floor, and then clears his throat. "I believe it's your turn... "

 

Grinning, I, too, remove my boots. As a bonus, I pull my socks off. Then I wait to see what he'll reveal next.

 

With a smirk, he removes his own socks.

 

Have I told you that I LIKE this guy?

 

**

 

Alex was really enjoying this little dance. Surprisingly, the thought of actually revealing his missing limb to this man didn't cause him any fear. Well, not much anyway. The memory of that bitch of a whore actually telling him to replace his shirt still rankled. Moreover, really making love—fucking—with only one arm had proven to be somewhat of a challenge.

 

But, tonight—with this Adam guy—well, maybe he could give it another try... without having to kill his bed partner for laughing at his disability.

 

Gathering his resolve, he pulled his own sweater over his head. He left the t-shirt in place, though. Time enough for that. Then—he turned his eyes on Adam, daring any further comment on his arm and silently challenged the other man to remove another item of clothing.

 

Slowly, teasingly, Adam released the top button of his fly: pulled down the zipper.

 

"You're a tease," Alex accused him.

 

A sultry smile was the only answer. With a wriggle and a twist, the jeans were removed.

 

"You're a fucking prick tease!" Alex stated.

 

"The operative word there, my friend, is 'fucking'," Adam pointed out in a mock-scholarly tone.

 

Well, hell. Okay. Alex took a deep breath and removed his own jeans—just for good measure, he pulled his t-shirt over his head, too. Glaring at Adam challengingly, he reached to remove the prosthesis.

 

Showing great intelligence, Adam did NOT offer to assist him. Instead, he just smiled encouragingly and nodded. "Really, Alex," he said. "It doesn't bother me. And, you have to start somewhere, yes? I've seen... Trust me, amputations are neither repugnant nor pitiful in my eyes."

 

**

 

"You're beautiful," I say, attempting to meld reverence and awe with just the right shade of wonderment and delight.

 

He looks like he could do without the compliment, but a little warmth creeps over him. I recognize the telltale signs... I realize that he thinks people say it but rarely mean it. I'm beginning to think I've got my work cut out for me with this one. Why are all the bold, wild dangerous ones so damaged on the inside? Professional hazards, perhaps.

 

Uncomfortably I start to think that maybe what drew me to this Alex in the first place was that he is something of a mirror.

 

Let me see, dark past. Check. Drawn to the mysterious in others. Check. Um, not bad looking, well conditioned, seasoned and fit... without having to even try. Check.

 

I can't stand it any longer and I get up, going to him, and gently press my mouth to his. Slow, sweet, soft...

 

I draw back and there's this heartbreaking mixture of pain and tenderness and hope and doubt and even jaded cynicism in his eyes. What a heady combination. I wonder how many hearts this guy has already broken, without even being aware of it?

 

He's still staring at me. I won't ask what he wants. I can read it in his eyes. He needs to be made love to—cherished. I wonder if he'll let me do just that. It's clear that HE has no idea what he wants—wouldn't admit it if he did.

 

What HAVE I gotten myself into here?

 

"Shall we?" I ask, indicating the bed.

 

He looks scared—frightened of the implications. Obviously he's still laboring under the delusion that a quick and dirty fuck is on the agenda for tonight.

 

"Look," I say, "a bed will make this much easier on my poor old body."

 

His look says, 'Yeah, right' but he nods and looks down at the mattress.

 

Waits.

 

Okay. I can do this—make him believe this is about my needs. My desires. I climb into the bed and lay back against the pillows.

 

"C'mere," I say. He doesn't move. Damn. "Please?" I ask him quietly, lowering my eyes submissively.

 

**

 

Fuck. FUCK.

 

Every nerve in his body was telling Krycek to get the fuck out of there. There was a reason why he never let anyone get this close. It's too damned easy for them to stick the knife in afterwards.

 

He stifled a snort—he was falling for it, and Adam was all too aware of that. Far too pleasant, too charming...the bastard. Too REAL. And—utterly sincere —that much was quite apparent. He was also playing Alex like a spider toys with a fly. Drawing him in. Yeah, he wanted it, wanted Alex. He also had Krycek's number. Knew Alex wanted this just as badly—probably more.

 

Su-uure, a quick fuck, a release. Nothing more. A drop in the ocean of discontent and the yearning for fulfillment.

 

This was a mistake. Alex shrugged the thought off. Fuck it. He'd just add it to a long list of mistakes he'd made over the years.

 

Adam's hand slowly moved to his chest and absently rubbed his collarbone, drawing Alex's attention. Slowly, he moved to sit down beside the other man.

 

His skin was so pale, translucent—he couldn't stop musing over the angular, awkward beauty laying sprawled before him...

 

Adam seemed to have all the grace of a colt, unsteady but with pure potential for action and power hiding behind a quicksilver, deadly mind and the body of someone who is whipcord strong. Against his will, Alex felt himself drawn in, falling, headlong.

 

Adam reached up and Krycek couldn't help but allow himself to be pulled down into those long arms... and, damn, it felt good. Not soft. In NO way was this man soft. No, he was all angles and hardened, stringy muscles.

 

Soon—too soon—Alex was lost in the feel of him.

 

And Adam knew it full well.

 

The bastard.

 

**

 

Dear gods, what a priceless gift, the submission of this beautiful boy, this broken child... I don't think he has any idea how heartbreaking he is.

 

His body is so alive and warm against me. I'm falling under his spell and the enchantment of those wounded green eyes. He's seen far too much. I can relate to that; I've seen it before, all too often, in my mirror.

 

I kiss his eyelids, first one and then the other. I want to give him everything that he needs, everything he wants.

 

His breath quickens and I can feel my pulse stutter as he rises up, looks into my eyes momentarily, then presses my head back into the pillows with a kiss. So strong, so very demanding, this kiss of his.

 

He's clinging to his dominance over me in this, as if to a lifeline, as though he would drown if he were to give the reins to me. His lips are warm, his mouth is hot and hungry, his tongue seeking out mine with such sensuousness that I can't help wondering what it would be like to own him.

 

Breaking off the kiss, I meet his eyes. "I want you, Alex," I murmur. "So much. Tell me what you want."

 

**

 

Oh man. This guy was GOOD. He knew EXACTLY what he was doing. Hell, Krycek had played this game himself. But, something told him that Adam wasn't playing him—that he genuinely wanted to give what Alex needed.

 

And, damn, he needed this—needed Adam.

 

"I want... I want you. I want... to make love to you," Krycek admitted in a husky voice. "Adam, I—"

 

"Hush," he soothed. "I know, Alex."

 

Alex made a move to roll off to one side, but Adam stayed the motion. "No. I want you right here—draped on top of me."

 

Doubtfully, Alex nodded and stayed still.

 

"Trust me," Adam said, smiling up at Alex. He knew—god alone knew how—but Adam knew that the submissive position would come back to haunt the assassin one day. "This will work—for both of us," he said.

 

Reaching down to grasp Alex's hips, he pulled their hips together and ground Krycek's erection against his.

 

Both men gasped.

 

"Need to—get these—damned boxers off, I think," Alex managed, not wanting to move away, not wanting to physically separate again.

 

The boyish and somehow mischievously knowing smile on Adam's face gave Alex the impetus to do it, however. He backed off slightly, pulling his shorts down and dropping them over the side of the bed. Adam was already shimmying out of his own white boxers, revealing narrow hips and a very pretty cock—long, slender—but not too thin. It was thick enough to make Alex's mouth water.

 

Adam saw that look of hunger and chuckled softly, pleased. "Come back here," he said, with a smile and enough promise in his voice to drag Alex down to him.

 

God, Alex wanted this to be slow...and hot...and hard, and Adam's hazel eyes let him know that it would be exactly that. An unfamiliar desire to just sink into that lean body—into the promise in those eyes—and make time stop, make the world disappear, suddenly filled Alex. A storm raging outside couldn't have distracted Alex from the strikingly intense magnetism between them.

 

He leaned back over Adam and covered that body with his own, pressing his mouth to Adam's once more, their cocks meeting and sliding together.

 

This. Just this. His mouth, this kiss; his body and the feel of the hardness, the suppleness of him. It was... god...

 

Alex should've been frightened at the rightness of it all—but it was so fucking perfect he couldn't find any fear within himself.

 

It was so perfect that it transcended what Alex had thought he'd wanted, what he'd imagined it could be like, and even flew above that slightly sorrowful note of longing and pain that might have threatened his composure. No, there was no pain here with Adam. None at all.

 

And somehow, a tiny voice whispered inside of him, in the back of his mind, telling him that THIS was the real danger he'd been very, very right to fear. The absence of pain.

 

**

 

This, I see, is a man not used to loving.

 

Not, I hasten to say, that I'm offering that... exactly. LoveMAKING is my intention here. Never mind that this started out to be something else—loving is what he needs, and that's something I can give him.

 

Soothingly, I rub my hands over his back. He arches like a cat under my caresses. He doesn't know it, but what I'm going to give him is exactly what he wants—needs. I let one hand settle on his nape and pull him down into a kiss.

 

"Mmmm," I hum. I can make him believe this is MY desire — that this is what I want—, which is exactly what he needs from me right now.

 

And, I suddenly realize that, yes, this has somehow become MY desire, too. How and when that happened, I don't know. Nevertheless, it HAS happened.

 

I watch him falling under my spell. That he now understands and accepts my offer.

 

Yes!

 

**

 

Alex's world had slowly melted down into a heated, breathless and driven puddle of molten lust. His brain had reached that shutdown phase where nothing existed except the frantic, anticipatory beating of his heart and the deafening rush of electric desire singing in his ears.

 

Adam's mouth was just demanding enough to keep him balanced on the edge, marveling at the simultaneous softness of those lips and the hard urgency of what was becoming a descent into decadence.

 

That chest rubbing against his, the flat stomach where both their cocks were sandwiched between his own belly and Adam's... Those tight encircling arms keeping him trapped in Adam's hold—it all began to take on the proportions of some strange dance.

 

To find safety, respite and desire within the arms of a fellow warrior, one who knew and understood his own needs better than he did himself...

 

Alex pulled away, gasping for breath. "Want you—want to fuck you, Adam... Now."

 

His face felt flushed and he felt the sweat beading his upper lip lightly; he licked it away before lowering his head again to catch Adam's mouth with a growl of satisfaction. It felt like—feeding.

 

Adam was grinning up at him with a strange wide-eyed expression of delight and perversity. His words rang wickedly in Alex's ears, "So fuck me. As I said, Alex, that's what I wanted when I laid eyes on you. And—being Immortal really has its advantages at times like these—I'm clean. I'm probably the cleanest slut in Paris." He snickered.

 

Alex couldn't help returning the grin and then bent once more, this time to bite at that smooth, tantalizing neck. Arching his head back, offering full surrender, Adam told him without words that his body was Alex's to do with as he pleased. Damn, how did the man do this? Offer himself with such ease?

 

Whatever. Alex had every intention of taking all that Adam offered. Surprisingly, he found that he WANTED to do it gently—easily—to actually make love. What WAS this man doing to him?

 

Nibbling his way along that long, gracefully arched throat, he gradually found his way to the pretty, perky, hardened nipples waiting for his touch.

 

I did this, he thought proudly. I'm doing this to him!

 

As much as Alex wanted Adam, Adam wanted Alex: wanted his touch, his caresses.

 

Damn, but he liked that. It had been so long—in fact, now that he paused to think about it, this was all new and...well, wonderful was the only word that came to mind. Yeah, wonderful. Just what he needed—even though he'd never realized it—even though he'd never ALLOWED himself to realize it—a gentle touch was what he'd needed all along.

 

He didn't let himself understand that this need was Adam-related.

 

**

 

Oh dear. This boy is more dangerous than I had previously thought. He's taking to loving like a duck to water. Must be all that suppression—the pent-up sensuality that he's forced to keep up in whatever dangerous profession he has. Alex is behaving as though I'm a banquet laid out before a starving man.

 

I could get used to this... his mouth trailing wet fire from my nipples to my neck, the way he's relaxing from tiger to tomcat on top of me. But it's getting harder to maintain this careful gentleness. I want to either roll him over and fiercely take all his sweetness, or beg him to fuck me until I die.

 

This sensory overload, his body on mine, our muscles beginning to quiver against each other, the way that his sweat is mingling with mine as it begins to cover our skin in a sheen—it's all leading up to a peak that I wasn't sure he would be able to achieve with me.

 

At last, I give in, and writhing involuntarily under him, I say, "Alex, do it. Do it now."

 

My words cause him to pause, motionless for a moment, then he orders, roughly, "Lift your legs higher."

 

I freeze; lost in the thrill his voice causes me. A tiger... some kind of a jungle cat is this man in this moment. Hell, in any moment. Gods, he is wonderful.

 

He growls at me, impatient when I don't immediately follow his order. A thrill runs through me at the sound and I hurriedly do as he's asked.

 

Appeased, he nods and smiles at me. And what a smile! Damn—he could easily take over the world with that smile.

 

Ready—more than ready—I wait with bated breath. And he — the bastard — scoots down, making sure that I feel every inch, every centimeter, of his body as he does so. Then—oh fuck—he crouches down and starts teasing my opening with his tongue.

 

"OH GODS!" I yell, spreading my legs further, encouragingly. "J-j-jesus," I stutter. "Allllex—FUCK—that's ... oh shit! That feels... "

 

His tongue—that talented tongue—pushes into me.

 

I scream. Can't help it. Shit! Seems I've needed a little lovemaking, myself.

 

My eyes are rolling back in my head and the pleasure is starting to make my spine tingle. OH, that tongue... He's far too skilled with it. My hands go to his head, helplessly sliding through that dark, sleek hair.

 

Finally, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears, so strained is it, I beg shamelessly, "Alex, please, fuck me now, oh please..."

 

**

 

DAMN!

 

Adam's plea sent a shiver of uncontrollable lust surging throughout Alex's body and he reluctantly gave one long, last lick to his tender feast before moving up to momentarily mouth Adam's balls. Sitting up, he said, "Get me ready for you. Use your mouth."

 

Adam stared back at him, his pupils huge and dark in his eyes, making him look utterly fuckable and making Alex want to ravish that mouth again, that neck... Focus, focus! Alex forced himself to sit back and give Adam room to get up and lean down to lick his cock, wetting it heavily with saliva. Adam's limbs were trembling, betraying his own level of excitement.

 

"That's all the lubrication you're going to get," Alex whispered, loving the way his words seemed to visibly shake Adam.

 

After one final mouthing to the head of Alex's cock, Adam quickly laid back against the pillows, spreading his legs so that Alex could easily move atop him.

 

Alex inched forward, placing himself between those long legs, taking his cock in hand and pressing it against Adam's ass, sliding the wet tip of his cock up and down Adam's crack.

 

"Fuck...Alex, please, just... just DO it!" Adam managed, hoarsely.

 

With a wild grin and a deliberately slow thrust of his hips, Alex stared into Adam's eyes as he slid his cock past the tight ring of muscle and then stopped. He waited for Adam to react, and when Adam's ass clenched around him once... twice, then relaxed, he slid further into that hot, sweet slippery tunnel. Alex whimpered.

 

Slowly, with a gentleness heretofore foreign to him, Alex pushed into Adam until he was buried to the hilt. Holding still, frozen in place, he stared down into cloudy hazel eyes, drinking in the open pleasure that shone at him.

 

Finally, apparently ready now, Adam frowned in feigned displeasure. "You planning to move any time soon?" he grumbled.

 

"Mmmm, well, since you ask so nicely... " Grinning, Alex began to thrust, thrilling to each sound his motion wrought from Adam's throat.

 

"Like that, do you?"

 

"Jesus CHRIST! Shut up and fuck me HARD already," Adam demanded, pushing up into Alex's next move. "Ooooh," Adam crooned. "That's wonderful—now, HARDER. I need... I need more, Alex. Please."

 

With a grunt, Alex did as asked. Their bodies met with an audible sound every time he buried himself inside of that delightful heat.

 

SLAP

 

GRUNT

 

SLAP

 

WHIMPER

 

SLAP

 

SCREAM

 

**

 

OH. Yes. This. This was—what I'd wanted, hard, animal FUCKING. Made all the sweeter... OH GODS... by the distinct beauty of shared intimacy bearing it to fruition.

 

My world has been reduced to a succession of endless shocks of pleasure with every timely thrust of Alex's invading cock deep inside of me. I can feel the burning sensation of imminent orgasm starting to thread all along my veins, throughout my body. With all the delicacy of a tornado, it rushes over me, sweeping through my body like the Quickening. I'm going to come without a single touch to my aching cock.

 

I don't even have time to say anything, try to coherently form any kind of warning before I'm exploding, a mindless shriek of ecstasy resounding in my ears —oh, right, it's my own...followed on its heels by Alex's as he empties himself into my ass with pounding thrusts. He's jerking and shuddering and he's so fucking beautiful that I can't help feeling after-tremors of renewed climaxing run through me, pulsing out of my organ that lies now trapped between our sticky bodies.

 

His breaths are now gasped sobs, as he finally comes to rest within me. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him, my hands on his head.

 

My beautiful boy: what a priceless vision. What a moment to treasure. The chase was excelled, as was even the anticipation, by the pleasure we've discovered here.

 

I hadn't thought to find love.

 

**

 

Alex lay with his head on Adam's breast, feeling the gradually quieting pounding of the heart beneath him. He kept his eyes closed, not yet willing to return to any semblance of reality or life...

 

And the first pang reached inside of him to squeeze his own heart. Their words of earlier came echoing back to haunt him: 'No lovey-dovey shit...' 'No, none, I promise.'

 

"Relax," Adam said, tightening his hold on Alex. "It is what it is—was perfect, in fact. Enjoy it for what it was, Alex. And stop thinking so much."

 

Alex considered those words for a moment, then decided that Adam was right. Hell, after over a hundred years of life, the man SHOULD be right—should understand. And... against his will, Alex found that he wanted to believe.

 

He snickered. 'Wanted to believe', indeed. Fucking Mulder. Ruthlessly, he shoved such thoughts aside and relaxed against Adam.

 

"Okay—I will—stop thinking, that is." He yawned mightily. "'Sides, 'm tired. Sleep now..." he mumbled.

 

**

 

Hell, I know he'll be gone come morning. Can't bring myself to care, though.

 

He will be back. This I know.

 

And I'll be waiting...

 

We've made a connection here. And, I think—no, I KNOW—that, though it'll be difficult—we'll remain lovers.

 

With a sigh, I close my eyes and allow myself to sleep under him... loving—yes, loving—the feel of his body still lying atop me.

 

Let tomorrow bring what may, I'll deal with it as it comes.


End file.
